Silent Beauty
by rafaell
Summary: How does she cope, as she has always been honest, with the knowledge that she has to keep her true feelings from showing? Emma. Jane/Frank.


**Title**: Silent Beauty

**Fandom:** Jane Austen Books/Emma

**Rating:** PG, (definitely safe for readers)

**Characters:** Jane Fairfax/Frank Churchill

**Summary:** How does Jane cope with the fact that she has to keep quiet about their affair?

~~~33~~

* * *

Jane Fairfax knew she was being unreasonable. She knew that deep down. But, despite her good nature, she could not help but feel the first pang of jealousy.

"But," she softly exclaimed to Frank, under the large wide tree where the branches dip and provide a cover from the noon-day sun, "she is of affluence, education, and appearance, how could you not fall for some one like her."

It even sounded quite hollow, because one look at Frank there-- where his hands clasped her white gloved ones--the fabric warming her already heated skin—t'would seem quite unseemly for her to presume such a notion that he would indeed find Miss Woodhouse with much more than he did with her.

"Nonsense, secure that thought out of your head, Jane, does not suit you to feel this jealousy, though I must confess, I find it rather charming. It shows," he lowered his voice to a whisper, "that you do indeed care for me."

Her cheeks felt hot, the heat of the day provided nothing cool for her flushed cheeks, "I'm quite sorry, though, she is quite an excellent creature, with everything that I do not possess."

He tapped her nose with his finger lightly, "Except that you do not possess a temperament like Miss Woodhouse. I daresay, for a more adventurous gentleman, he'd find himself more than a handful with her. She is a fine young woman, that I have no doubt about it. However," he added with an intake of his breath, "such a woman with such steady spirit does not provide me with much ease, most gentlemen would be fortunate to have a fine lady such as Emma Woodhouse, never a dull moment; yet, I do not fancy myself with unneeded stress and what would my poor nerves do?"

She smiled; lowering her head, the elegancy of her hair today was courtesy of her new companion Mrs. Elton, who had taken the opportunity to ingratiate her presence to find a proper position for Jane.

"I am," she paused, swallowed and turned her head away a little—the shaft of sunlight streaming through the branches, creating a kaleidoscope of gold and warm shades against her fair skin, "disgracing myself, to be sure, as I do not, - I, have not, ever felt this way before, and in such that I had to endure so much—seeing you—with Miss Woodhouse, smiling, laughing, and all the playful teasing."

She felt she had said too much—her heart pounded beneath her chest, but there, she has said it and there was nothing much to be done. Her first encounter with Frank Churchill was met with a kind of whirlwind, for he had taken her hand, kissed it soundly, his eyes upon hers, possessing – no, bordering on a rather indecent gaze. Though, he was cheerful enough—such cheerfulness did her a world of good. He made her laugh, and there was naught but a steady stream of compliments, in which she could only surmise as genuine.

"My darling, my beautiful Miss Fairfax. If you could just wait, even forever, though I do not fault you if you were to lose patience. I know it pains you, to see me in company with Emma Woodhouse and her companion friend Miss Smith, all the while; it is you that I wish by my side. I-," he paused, enough to place his finger below her chin so that he may look into her eyes, "cannot begin to tell you how close, how in such agony I've been. Have I not showered you with enough to let you know that I love you?"

"Your declarations of love is and will always be received, as I _too_ love you." The burn behind her eyes distracted her, and the sun was shifting enough so that he could,_ he should not_ see her in such whimsical tears. She blinked back, tilted her head a little a ways.

"Jane, just a little longer." He said; the plea in his voice quite evident.

"How could I not wait? My heart has been lost to you." She closed her eyes, because she knew that he was about to kiss her, and the soft sigh of his breath hinted of mint from the late afternoon's tea.

When he kissed her, her heart lifted, and she brought her arms round him.

Frank Churchill was her true love, she knew this. He didn't need to send her the pianoforte, or even the bouquet of flowers, the baskets of fresh eggs and bread for the only family she has ever known. It was true that it hurt her, in this fashion where he teased and cajoled with Miss Woodhouse, in the open field with a gathering of company. It was true that she did feel the insistent tug of pain in her heart when he sat not with her, playing and twirling on a long stemmed weed, toasting a glass of wine against the sun.

When he released her, she was breathless.

"I promise, Jane. I promise, I shall marry you." He touched her hand, where the ring was secured—a simple band of gold—and she did not mind. He must have felt something because he swallowed, the lump in his throat caused him to clear, "I promise you that I shall give you more than this. You so deserve more."

He touched the ring softly, back and forth with his thumb. "My aunt has many jewels, and I promise that you shall inherit them all."

"Oh Frank." She sighed, "I do not believe that your aunt will ever accept our proposal. Could you live with that?" Jane sent him a desperate look, "Could you live without a penny from your aunt? Whom you have cared and looked after for so long?"

"I care deeply for my aunt, yes, and I admit, I do fear her lack of acceptance of you."

"I understand."

He cried out in a pained soft voice, "Jane, Oh Jane, is it ever possible to ever behold another angel such as you? You are divine in every way." Frank brought his hand lovingly over her cheek. She leaned into it.

"But please, I cannot bear to wait too much longer, Frank."

"A few months."

She nodded, but her heart broke.

When he took her back home, she seemed dishonest to whisk away like this, but it was, the only way for now. She was greeted with the commonplace of stable torrent of her companions. With the water boiled and the tea poured, the biscuits ready for her appetite should she need to nibble, was a gesture that made her feel always at home, always welcomed and loved.

She may have been an orphan, never knowing who her real parents were, but she has been fortunate. She just hoped her heart would stand it much longer now that a different kind of love has entered her life.

--


End file.
